Roommates: Yang's side
by Rikaishi
Summary: In which Blake demonstrates the supreme physical discipline of her training, and Yang is clueless.


Note: hat tip to the following artist for inspiration.

vnixxir deviantart com/art/Roommates-399333772

...

That was it. Yang was at her limit. Five days ago they had been assigned this dorm room together and she had borne the silence heroically, out of respect for her bookworm of a room-mate, but now she needed attention and there was only one person in the room to supply it.

That person made the mistake of settling herself for the evening at the foot of Yang's bed.

"Blaaaaake..." She pleaded, draping herself across her partner's back and making a half-hearted grab for the book.

"Yang, I'm reading."

"But I'm boooorredd!"

"Please let go of the bow..."

"The bow?" While wallowing in her fit of ennui, Yang's other hand had wandered up and latched on to that intriguing black object atop Blake's head which was so at odds with her personality.

She now stared at the cute accessory from close range while giving it a few experimental tugs. "Don't wanna."

"What?"

Ignoring her partner's incredulous protest, Yang quickly shifted to a cross-legged position so she could access the new toy with both hands. In her current mood she was almost guaranteed to piss off anyone stuck in the same room with her, so getting some mileage out of the event was probably her best course of action.

"I know I said that I just liked your bow earlier but looking closer, this thing is seriously cool." She chattered conversationally while gently examining the object with her fingers, being careful not to damage it.

"Oh god. Yang you really need to s-sto..." Blake looked like she wanted to stand up but something was stopping her, and Yang wasn't about to waste any opportunities or pay heed to such weak-sounding entreaties.

"I mean, it looks for all the world like a tied ribbon even from up close, but it's actually a sort of sculpture, isn't it? The outer silk layer is extremely high-quality and there's some sort of velvety, semi-rigid structure inside to stop it from flopping about." Yang held one side in her thumb and forefinger and rubbed them against each other, fascinated at the complete lack of friction between the three layers.

"The material inside must be something special too." She mused, idly flapping the bow's other side, "what with the way it's flexible yet immediately springs back into shape, and it's so soft and smooth that it provides even less drag against the silk then the silk does on itself." Frowning at that, she wondered aloud, "but why would that even be necessary?"

"No biggy anyway. The point is, even just the materials for these things must be really expensive." So saying, she emphasized that professional opinion with one last swipe up the thin outer edge of each flap.

"kKuh!"

… Well. That was odd. Blake normally reserved monosyllables for her precise yet badass combat moves. Leaning over to observe her victim's reaction to all of this, Yang had to admit to more then a little disappointment.

Blake's previously relaxed posture was completely gone, replaced by a ramrod straight back and tense muscles which expressed obvious disapproval of her very expensive accessory's tormentor. Apparently she was not annoyed enough to actually do something about it, however, as she had returned to reading her book.

Of course, the way her nose was literally buried in the book with the pages covering her face would normally prevent a person from reading those pages, but Yang wouldn't put it past the ninja-bookworm to manage, somehow.

Deflated, she returned to her contemplation of the black bow-sculpture-thing. She was starting to run out of excuses to mess with it, and that darn book was winning their private battle for Blake's attention.

"Now this head-band is interesting." This was just stretching the truth, but it was a workable excuse and allowed her hands to return to Blake's stock-still head. "The color blends with your hair really well." Gingerly her fingertips explored the area where the psuedo-ribbon met the base it was attached to. Expecting to find blobs of glue where the scaffolding attached to the headband, it seemed like that material continued down into a wide indentation in the headband instead.

Puzzled, Yang started working her fingers underneath the band "The padding on this thing must be really good if you can even wear it to bed without getting a headache."

For just a moment, it seemed like Blake's head leaned into her hands, encouraging her fingers towards their destination before it twitched away again, accompanied by a sharp inhalation of breath and the light thump of a book hitting the floor.

"You. Damned. Fiend!"

Yang grinned. Nevermind, Blake was gloriously pissed and the hated enemy lay vanquished and forgotten on the floor. Yang Xiao Long: 1, Book: 0

"Aw, come on Blake. I was just playing with you." She smiled winningly, although Blake still wasn't looking at her, and briefly considered ending her fun for the night.

Unfortunately her traitorous hands had already decided for her and were back in those lovely silk folds as if magnetically attracted, alternatively ruffling and smoothing them for the sheer joy of it.

Really, she had to admit that her own behaviour was a bit weird, but she didn't have to think very hard to figure out why she liked Blake's bow so much.

It was like her hair.

A few days ago, she had noticed that Blake had to comb gel through the black mess every morning to get it to behave. And in the evenings when Blake returned to their dorms and dried her hair after a shower it revealed itself to be superhumanly fine, completely unlike Yang's own course and unruly mass. If allowed to float free, Blake's hair would drift behind her like smoke.

It was incredible, and Yang had been struggling with an increasingly frustrating desire to play with that gossamer mass and run her hands through it. Which of course was impossible since any such gesture was way too intimate for friends, team-mates or whatever else they might be. That was a line she couldn't cross without seriously damaging their relationship.

On the other hand, messing with her bow was something Yang could just laugh off. It seemed like an acceptable surrogate to the hair thing and after days of self discipline, cutting loose was just infinitely relaxing.

Relaxing for one of them anyway, if Blake's white-knuckled grip on her bed sheets was anything to go by.

"I swear... if you... ...don't... stop..."

Oh damn. That sounded like the sort of back-off-now request that she probably needed to respect.

"Ahaha, sorry Blake." She laughed nervously, removing her hands. "I guess I overdid it a li..."

"Don't..."

"... huh?"

"Don't stop."

...

Was Blake trembling?

"You... want me to keep playing with your bow..."

"Just a little. Please."

Ok Blake was saying something more then a little crazy. Her breathing seemed a bit heavy yet tightly-controlled and her head was just slightly turned towards Yang, giving her a view of the reddest cheeks she had ever seen on her generally composed partner.

But Yang was never one to bother herself with the motives of a gift-giver.

"Well. Bon Appéteet!" She gleefully replied.

**NOM**

Taking full advantage of her licence to play, Yang's mouth descended on the bow's left side and nibbled on the tip while the fingers of both hands descended on the right and rubbed vigorously, yet gently as she was still mindful not to wreck the fine silk.

A reaction to this treatment was immediate and unexpected. Blake jerked underneath her and emitted a strangled gasp. As Yang pulled back to give her a puzzled stare, while idly straightening the bow, Blake's ramrod posture developed a distinct arch.

Then she *flopped*

"Woah." Caught off guard, Yang went down with her while catching her partner's shoulder so she didn't hit the floor. Instead, both their heads landed on the end of the mattress and Yang rolled over to secure her grip and pull Blake fully on to the bed with her.

"Blake? Are you ok?" She peered worriedly at the girl, who was now hot, flushed and panting like she'd developed a sudden fever.

"I'm fine." She managed, still held in the circle of Yang's arms. Blake squirmed closer still and, astonishingly, burrowed into the hollow of Yang's neck and chest, fitting their curves together like she was seeking some kind of warmth or comfort.

"Um..." For once, Yang was momentarily at a loss for words.

She tightened her arms around the girl protectively.

"What on earth is with you today?"

"..."

"Shut up." The voice issued from somewhere near her collarbone. "Just let me rest here... for a minute or two."

Yang shut up. She certainly didn't mind letting that happen.

There was something about that thought which should have bothered her but it was swept aside by a myriad of other thoughts filling the silence. Thoughts which were similarly disconnected, like she was missing the right foundation to anchor them in. Thoughts about her face-full of Blake's hair and bow, the heavenly scent that emerged from them, the calming breaths and heartbeat on her skin, and Blake's body... warm, unmistakably powerful, yet relaxed and soft against her own.

As was normal, one of those thoughts took control of her throat of it's own volition.

"You know. If you aren't feeling well, we could just sleep like this, together." What the flaming grims was she saying. "And, uh, maybe in the morning you'd feel all good again!" Yang finished chirpily.

Blake's head shifted so that one glowing yellow eye could glare at her suspiciously.

"Don't push your luck."


End file.
